


Chokehold

by AllTheFeels



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Emotions, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Recovery, Rick and Daryl swear a lot whoops, every character that's not Rick or Daryl is just mentioned or only there for a line or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheFeels/pseuds/AllTheFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Maggie has nightmares, she screams and cries until Glenn wakes her up. Daryl’s screams, however, are choked, like he’s holding himself back, as though he’d been doing this for years on end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chokehold

Daryl had a sense of complete and utter nonchalance around subjects that really, really shouldn’t be casual. Rick has to hold himself back from openly bristling when Daryl stitches up one of Michonne’s various wounds, making a comment about stitching himself up once when he was a child. Part of him wants to howl at the other man that kids aren’t supposed to be stitching themselves up, they’re supposed to be safe and happy, living with parents who care about them. Part of him looks at Carl and feels nauseous thinking about the things his boy has done, wondering what could be going on up in his head. 

 

There’s something a little different, though, a little more twisted about the fact that Daryl, from what he could tell, was abused in the world before the walkers. The world that everyone else remembers fondly, little smiles on their faces as they talk about family, school dances, flowers, friends...all while Daryl watches, biting into his thumb as usual, before stalking off to take watch. The world was supposed to be good before and bad after, even though, deep down, Rick  _ knows _ it was terrible before and even worse after. He wants to hide in the good memories, though, to bury himself down into times when Lori had appeared at the station just to give him a kiss, or when Carl had spoken his first words. He doesn’t want to remember the bad along with the good, to remember that the world was complex before and it’s still just as, if not more, complex. 

 

The problem with Daryl is that Rick knows he doesn’t want to talk about it, and that he’s easily the most stubborn man Rick has  _ ever _ met. When it came to feelings, it took Carol to coax them out of him, but if he didn’t feel safe, even for a second, he’d shut down again. Rick had worked with abused children before, sure, but Daryl isn’t a child. He’s a grown ass man who had saved the deputy’s life too many times to count. 

 

Still, too many of his habits were the new normal now for Rick to really bring it up with anyone. Everyone jumped to attention at sudden loud noises, or noticed even the slightest of movements at the softest of noise. Everyone had nightmares, even the screaming ones that everyone else pretends not to notice. 

 

The nightmares are the one difference. When Maggie has nightmares, she screams and cries until Glenn wakes her up and holds her tight. Daryl’s screams are choked, like he’s holding himself back, as though he’d been doing this for years on end. So Rick waits. One night, he waits for the choked screams and then he waits until Daryl has inevitably gone and replaced whoever was last on watch until he follows him out. 

 

Before he’d left for watch, Daryl had thrown on his beloved vest, the angel wings faded but somehow still there, threads clinging on to the leather desperately. Rick approaches slowly, hesitantly, before he finally sits down beside the hunter, asking,

 

“Can’t sleep?”

 

“Fuckin’ walker dreams,” Daryl mumbles without looking over, “Always wake me up.”

 

Rick  _ hmms _ in response, waiting a few moments before trying his best to nonchalantly ask, “What you told Michonne, about you stichin’ yourself up as a kid, is that true?”

 

“‘Course it’s true,” Daryl says with a laugh void of humor, “That’d be a stupid fuckin’ thing to lie about.”

 

“Yeah,” The other man says with a little sigh, catching himself watching Daryl in the darkness, noting how the moonlight bleaches out some of the lines on his face, making him look just a tad less tired, less stressed, “What’d you do, and...hell, why did you do the stitches yourself?”

 

The first inkling of discomfort slips in as Daryl fidgets, his voice growing rougher as he set his jaw and shifts his shoulders in a way that can only be described as a caged animal preparing itself to fight, “Why does it fuckin’ matter, Atlanta? It’s not important to anythin’ going on right now.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Rick says, letting silence blanket the two of them for another few moments before he finally adds, “Just...a kid shouldn’t be stitching himself up.”

 

“Kids shouldn’t be killin’ walkers.” Daryl retorts, his face scrunched and voice sharp, the words a strike of finality over the situation. 

 

It’s a good thing Rick is a stubborn son of a bitch.

 

“Fair enough, but that’s now, man, with the world all--- all  _ fucked up _ , but that was then,” He strains his voice, “You were a fuckin’ kid, you---”

 

“What do you want to hear, Grimes?” Daryl cuts him off, eyes narrowed, “That poor little Daryl’s Daddy didn’t love him enough? That he was a fuckin’ drunk? That I stitched myself up on the first fuckin’ day of seventh grade because Merle wasn’t around to do it for me and I wasn’t about to ask the bastard who made the cut in the first place to goddamn fix it? Do you want to hear me  _ fuckin _ ’ cry about it, to whine about trauma and all that bullshgit? Fuck no, man. Fuck no. It’s all dead now, anyways.”

 

Rick’s throat is swollen, his eyes starting to tear up.  _ Fuck _ . 

 

“I just want you to talk,” He admits, “Don’t even need to...to talk about the worst, just to talk and try to deal with that shit rather than hiding it because it’s bullshit and we all figured  _ something _ was wrong anyways, alright?”

 

Daryl just nods, and they sit in silence for a few more moments until Rick shatters it once again.

 

“Daryl?”

 

“What the hell is it now?”

 

Rick’s hand moves to the other man’s thigh for a moment, hesitating there and then moving to clutch at the archer’s rough palms, fingers locked together. There’s a few seconds of silence before the leader finally says,

 

“You’re not alone, okay? Don’t...don’t fuckin’ hide.” 

  
Daryl swallows, then anxiously squeezes Rick’s hand and says, “I know. I’ll...I’ll talk.”

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck even is this trash lmao. lemme know what you thought kiddos, i've gotta go to sleep before I pass out! also don't take the whole "Daryl stitched himself up as a child" thing for serious alrighty I just threw that in there haha :3


End file.
